


Himbo Hitman for Hire

by Catsitta



Series: Assorted Oneshots [14]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Mobfell (Undertale), Bara Sans (Undertale), Clueless Reader, Comedy, F/M, Himbo Sans, Kinda, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mobfell Sans (Undertale), Mobsters, Romance, Romantic Comedy, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsitta/pseuds/Catsitta
Summary: Sans is just one big goof of a skeleton. A real sweet bonehead. He doesn’t talk much about work, but if you had to guess, it’s because he’s embarrassed about working for the family business and essentially still living off daddy’s money.Alt Summary: Son of local mob boss wants a nice date with the cute human he met. His day job keeps interfering.Mobfell!Sans x Reader | Sans Centric | Romantic Comedy
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Assorted Oneshots [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413808
Comments: 14
Kudos: 267





	Himbo Hitman for Hire

**Author's Note:**

> I throw my hat into the himbo mobster Sans discussion. Because I have writer's block and this is what my brain wanted to write when I woke up this morning instead of any of my wips.

“Pfffffft, Saaaaaaaans. Stooooop it. I have to—heh—get to work.”

“but I’ll be so _bonely_ without yer. My world is dark without that smile shinin’ at me, lighting up the whole room.”

“Stop being so cheesy ya big goof,” you said, laughing again as he batted his nonexistent eyelashes, somehow looking like an overgrown puppy and the most adorkable idiot all at once. “My ribs are hurting and I probably look like a red-faced goblin.” Whenever Sans was around, he always went out of his way to make you laugh, often until you were wiping away tears. You both patronized the same coffee shop, so it wasn’t uncommon to bump into him and end up a guest to the corniest comedy show this side of Ebott. And he always looked so proud of himself. Just grinned all big and sweet. Sure, he was a giant wall of a skeleton monster with a mouth of shark teeth, but that sort of thing fell the wayside when he started spouting terrible puns and apologizing each time he inevitably did something klutzy, such as trip over a chair.

I mean, how could you be intimidated by a mammoth of a man that said sorry trash cans and hanging wall art if he happened to bump into them as he tried not to accidentally elbow any other patrons in a crowded shop? 

Suddenly, said bonehead looked very serious and your laughter faded away. Sans got real close, “Yer look beautiful. The prettiest dame I’d ever seen. Now don’t go callin’ her a goblin just cuz she’s laughin’ and her eyeliner is a bit smudged. Capiche?”

Okay, you totally weren’t tearing up a little. This sweet, silly man. 

You went to ask him if he planned to be here tomorrow, and he opened his mouth to ask something himself, when his phone rang. His face dropped like someone kicked him. “sorry. i don’t mean to be rude but,” he pulled out the blaring device. One the cracked screen it read ‘Boss’. 

A smile quirked on your lips, “Work is more important. Go on.”

He gave one of those sad, deeply apologetic looks and tiptoed his way between customers, stride lengthening, phone to the side of his skull once he was outside. Evidently, he was a hard worker. You didn’t know much about Sans’ job, if anything, you’d say he was embarrassed by it. He always got dodgy and squirmed, his gaze dropping to his coffee. All he really ever hinted was that he was part of the family business and that was why he wore the clown suit every day. And if that black-on-black suit with a spiffy red tie, gold watch and rings, was any indication, his father was likely a very important man, with a business where appearances were everything. Dear sweet Sans seemed like the sort who worked very hard but just...didn’t have the smarts or savvy to really dominate in the world of big business, and knew it. But he was gentle and kind. 

Over the past couple months, he really left an impression.

Hopefully, he’d figure it out and find himself someday. With a sigh and a smile, you threw away your empty cup and headed to work.

.

“SANS, WHY ARE YOU NOT AT YOUR POST?”

“yeesh, mind my nonexistent ears, boss. i’ll be there in a sec. yer can pull that stick from up yer pelvis and stop riding my case,” Sans stepped through a shortcut, emerging on top the roof where he was to wait for his target. “see, i’m even early. yer and the ol’ man really need to chill. i didn’t get my rep fer sittin’ and lookin’ cute.”

“YOU WEREN’T DILLY-DALLYING BEFORE, EITHER! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BARELY MADE IT TO THE SITE ON TIME IN THE PAST TWO MONTHS?”

“gimmie a break! i can defy known physics to cross the fabric of time and space to get anywhere i want in a blink. so what if i’m not in a hurry no more?” Sans pulled a black case from under his jacket and popped it open, revealing a sniper rifle. Deft hands assembled the weapon with practiced ease, “i aint failed a hit yet, and i aint gonna start today. now, i’m hanging up before yer give away my location with yer squawking.” Sans pressed disconnected before his little brother could give a shriek of offense. He rolled his eyelights and the corner of his mouth quirked up. He loved his bro, coolest guy in the world, but he never learned how to use an indoor voice. And that’s why Sans was the man for stealth missions and Papyrus handled front end stuff like public image. He had a brain for business, just like their pops. While Sans took more after their ma—god bless her soul, may she rest in peace—and was real hot shot with habit of running his mouth. Stars above he missed her. She was a saucy spitfire that didn’t take nothing from nobody, all without losing her manners or her pageant smile.

It didn’t take long for Sans to sink into position, mind and body at ready for what came next. He peered through the scope, watched as his next paycheck skittered nervously out of his apartment, and grinned. The crosshairs lined up over the rat’s soul and the target froze, pinned in place by Sans’ masterful use of blue magic. Sans didn’t give him time to scream. He pulled the trigger.

“Happy judgement day,” he murmured.

By the time anyone could respond to the gunshot and the dust on the wind, Sans was long gone.

.

“I haven’t seen you around the past couple days. Have a skele _ton_ of work to do?”

Sans chuckled and scratched the back of his head, looking like a boy who was caught stuffing frogs into his pockets, “yeah. pop’s keeping me busy. yer know how it goes.”

“Gotta earn a living somehow.” He didn’t respond. Instead he fiddled with a newspaper you caught him reading when you arrived. Given his grin, you suspected he was enjoying the funny pages. Didn’t really cast him as much of a sports guy...or someone who would be chuckling about the latest suspected mafia hit on the front page. “You shouldn’t be ashamed.”

“huh?” Sans blinked owlishly at you.

“Working for your dad. You shouldn’t feel ashamed about it. In this day and age, if it pays the bills, then you might as well grab the opportunity with both hands,” you dared bump his arm with your shoulder. He towered over you and but he swayed like a willow in a windstorm when you nudged him. Sans didn’t look offended by the impromptu physical contact, if anything, he didn’t seem to know HOW he felt. His skull took on an adorable pink flush and the newspaper crumpled in his grip, as did his paper coffee cup. The both of you jumped a little when the lukewarm liquid sloshed over his hand onto the floor. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. Here, let me…”

You grabbed a fistful of napkins from the little station behind you that held straws, spare lids and cold creamer. After only a couple blots, he regained use of his precious few brain cells and fumbled to take the napkins, only to drop the cup completely onto the floor. Sans sputtered out a barrage of apologies, hurriedly grabbing an excess of napkins to mop up the mess, insisting that it was his fault and you shouldn’t have to clean up after him. “Hey, it’s okay, here, let me help.” Eventually, through the power of teamwork, the spill was all cleaned up. “See, no harm no foul. No use crying over spilt milk—er coffee—and all that.”

“Aint cryin’.”

You grinned, unable to help yourself from teasing him a little, “Sure that isn’t a tear I see in your socket? I mean, a lady does love a sensitive man that isn’t afraid to show his emotions.” A flutter of your lashes worthy of an oscar earned a snort. 

“that right?”

“Of course.”

“uh, hey, i’ve been meanin’ to ask—”

But before the either of you could continue your lovely conversation, Sans’ phone beeped. He checked his messages and sighed, “sorry again. gotta go.”

.

CRACK.

“i wuz havin’ a good day until—”

CRACK.

“—yer had to go an’ mess it up.”

CRACK.

“there’s this cute lil lady—”

CRACK.

“—real sweet and beautiful and perfect—”

CRACK.

“—who i wuz gonna ask out on the town when i got word that yer,” Sans loomed over the whimpering mess of a man, laying bloodied and broken on the floor, helplessly zip tied to a chair. “were a gabby gus. and now we hafta clean up after yer mess.” He grabbed the man’s soul with magic and yanked him upright again. With a lazy roll of his shoulders, he drew the baseball bat in his hands up, “batter up, bucko. time fer the second inning.”

The sound proofed room filled with agonized screams and the crack of wood on bone.

.

“OH MY GOD! SAAAAAAANS~ PUT ME DOOOOOWN.”

You could barely contain your laughter as Mr. Dramatic, first name Sans, realized what he was doing, flushed scarlet, and gingerly put you back on your feet. The two of you were chatting when a guy dropped his hot tea right in front of you both, steaming water splashing everywhere. You braced yourself for pain, well within the splash zone, unable to jump away in the crowded room, but before a single drop could hit your bare leg, you were suddenly swept off your feet. Literally. Sans, possessing on hell of a reaction time, plucked you up as easy as a feather and shielded you from the tea as if it were a grenade instead of a little hot water. He then peppered you with questions, asking if you were hurt and if you were okay, apparently not realizing that he had you cradled in his arms.

“i’m sorry! my ma taught me better than to lay my hands on a lady without permission, but you coulda gotten burned and i can’t stand the thought of yer bein’ hurt and—”

“Sans. Sans! You’re babbling. It really is alright. You just startled me is all.” He gave you a wide, hopeful look. “I mean, girls talk about having a big, handsome man sweep them off their feet, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen it happen quite so literally. Much less experienced it. You’re quite strong, and fast too. Didn’t even see you move!”

His chest puffed out a little, “yeah?”

“Mhm. A real class A hero.”

“yer hero?” He gave a corny waggle of his browbones.

You struck a suitably melodramatic pose, “Oh, yes~ My hero!”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted, again all boyish, “then would yer be willin to—” Suddenly, the front door of the shop burst open and a skeleton even taller than Sans stomped in. Like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar, Sans froze as said skeleton parted the crowd like an armani clad modern Moses and walked right up to him. “uh, hey bro?”

“I THOUGHT I WOULD FIND YOU HERE, LAZYBONES.”

“awe, c’moooon it’s my day off, boss.”

Boss? Bro? You blinked at the tall monster, unable to quite see the resemblance. 

“IF YOU HAD YOUR PHONE ON, YOU WOULD KNOW THAT FATHER WANTS YOU HOME NOW.”

“...work?” The look he received was the classic, unspoken one of: ‘don’t be stupid, you know the answer.’ Sans sighed and looked between his brother and you, “see ya around?”

“Of course.”

He waved, even as his brother literally dragged him away by the back of the coat.

.

“What is with you today, Sans?”

He grimaced at his father, who had all of them sorting through paperwork in the middle of his study, on Sans’ day off. 

“i had plans,” he muttered.

“Such as?”

“nunya.”

Papyrus snickered, and in true little brother fashion, tattled, “MAKING AN IDIOT OF HIMSELF IN FRONT OF A GIRL.”

“oi! wuz not!”

“SANS, I HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF KNOWING YOU AS A TEENAGER. YOUR APTITUDE WITH THE FAIRER SEX HAS NOT IMPROVED.”

“yer have no room to talk mr. ‘i know yer hopelessly in love wit me but i am so edgy and tragic we can only be friends’.”

“Boys. Boys. Enough. Paperwork. Organize. Now.”

“yessir.”

.

“Care to share what the work emergency was about?”

“paperwork.”

“Really?”

“yep. my old man, smartest guy you’d ever meet...sucks at organizing anythin’. my brother usually handles that stuff, but pops? he’s ah, on the eccentric side, will wake up in the middle of the night with an idea, and rummage through all the neatly organized files and scatter them from one side of the house to the other.”

“Seriously?” Sans nodded. “So I guess he’s more of the idea guy at whatever business he runs, huh?”

“sure. he’s the brains of the operation fer sure.”

“And you?”

Sans looked away and tapped his fingertips on the side of the half-empty cup, “i take care of errands outside of the office mostly.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re always running off. You’re a go-fer. He says go and you go.” 

“eh, bout sums it up.”

“Well, I hope he appreciates the work you do. You seem like you work really hard.”

“thanks,” again that flush returned. He was turning pink more and more during your conversations. “hey, uh, i’ve been meaning to ask fer a while now. and yer under no obligation to say yer or nothin’ but i’d love it if yer did, i mean, like it, not love. love is a strong word and i have nothing against love, love is very nice i hear…”

“Sans. Breathe.”

He swallowed, “would yer mind goin’ on a date sometime? i know i’m a bonehead, and i swear my mouth don’t work right around yer, but...i should prolly shut up now.”

You snorted and wrapped your arms around his, “Of course I’ll go out with you, bonehead. I didn’t realize you were interested.”

“interested? sweetheart, yer make me lose my ability to think wit a smile. i get all wobbly and weak in the knees, all that schoolyard stuff.”

“Really? Because when you picked me up last week, you were hardly what I would call weak.” You squeezed his upper arm tighter to your chest and he cleared his nonexistent throat. 

“if yer have a couch yer need movin’, i can pick it up all by myself!”

“Really?”

“yep!”

“What about a bed?”

That little comment had him lost for words. 

This looked like it would be the start of a beautiful relationship. Who needs a guy who is calm, calculated and clever when you can have someone big, beefy and beautiful on the inside and out? There were all types in the world. And Sans was your kind of man.

**Author's Note:**

> -FIN-
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](https://catsitta.tumblr.com/) for art, updates and more!


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